


The One Where Shit Gets Emotional

by catacombsaint, Coryrossion



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Self-Harm, Transphobia, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-11-19 06:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catacombsaint/pseuds/catacombsaint, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coryrossion/pseuds/Coryrossion
Summary: This is a really gratuitous hurt/comfort fic about the water and fire ghouls, look at the tags for potentially triggering content.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a collab fic between myself and aristice! this one's gonna be a three-chapter, and i swear it'll have a happy ending i promise
> 
> this first chapter was written pretty much entirely by ari :y enjoy

Dewdrop snarled, finding himself unwillingly backed up against a stone wall by three ghouls and a couple of sisters, all sneering and looking at his mounting fear with sadistic, ugly glee. His icy eyes darted left and right, searching for a gap between them but finding his narrow options closing tight as the five closed rank around him in a semicircle. His shoulders hunched in a threatening gesture as the biggest of the ghouls, a musclebound male by the name of Jupi, stepped forward and tilted his head back arrogantly. Dew barely resisted the urge to take advantage of his opponent exposing his neck so brazenly and sink his needle-like claws into the flesh. Barely.

 

“Well, look at the little freak…not so brave without your guard dog, huh?” Jupi scoffed, smiling at the responding laughs from his gang. “Doggy’s not gonna be around anytime soon, I hope?”

 

“Go away!” Dew spat, brandishing his arms and baring his pointed teeth. His tail whipped against the stone wall behind him, and he was suddenly, rudely, reminded of the trap he was in, of the trap he stupidly allowed himself to be cowed into. The re-realization sent another bolt of panic through him, pumping adrenaline into his already saturated system. Dew gave another snarl, grimly keeping a tight leash upon his feral instinct to bust through the intimidating half ring…or to try and claw his way out. “Leave me! _Gyleth!_ ”

 

Jupi paused, repressing a shiver at Dew’s glacier blue eyes snapping to him and drilling into his head, the terror in those baby blues barely apparent over pure loathing. _Like a rabid wolf…_ He snorted, shaking the thought from his mind. The ghoul before him could tip the scales at 100 wearing lead shoes and soaking wet. Maybe. “Leave you? We just got here… Besides, how could we pass up an opportunity to talk with our favourite freak?” Jupi gestured to his congregated gang in one sweeping motion, earning him a tittering giggle from one of the sisters. “Besides, we have a bone we want to pick with you…Sadi here has heard some, ah, _interesting_ rumors about you lately, and all we want to know is if they’re true or not. To get the facts straight, as it were.” Jupi hesitated, smirking over the scrawny ghoul and waiting for a response from him before continuing.

 

Dew squinted distrustfully at the bigger man, trying to control his breathing in an attempt to appear less intimidated. “What?” he eventually spits out, straightening his back and trying to stand tall. “What?”

 

The other ghoul put his hands behind his back and grinned, like a smug student, overly confident in their answer. “Well…” he drawled, noting Dew’s eyes narrowing, “Sadi has heard of someone breaking into Moon’s labs at night…and taking some rather, ah, _unusual_ solutions and potion ingredients. I talked about what was stolen with her, and it turns out all the materials that were missing were all _steroid_ packed. Kept under lock and key for obvious reasons. So, with a little digging and a little common sense, we found out that all the ingredients stolen were prominent in two things only: the summoning of a male incubus, or… _or…”_ Jupi watched Dew go still in front of him, his pupils shrinking into pinpricks of fear. The small ghoul’s mouth opened slightly, taking in a single, shuddering gasp. Jupi savored the moment before the kill, a cruel grin plastered onto his lips. “...or, as I was surprised to find out, a potion of changing. A potion of changing a woman…into a _man_ . Now, given I don’t see any incubi running around, I guessed the second option. Of course, that begs the question: who could it be? Who could be _freakish_ enough to try and fake being a guy? As it turns out, the infirmary keeps strict records on ghoul births—not hard, considering there’s only been three in the last century. Of these three full blooded ghouls, two were born male: Air, who I know for a _fact_ has a cock. The other died as a toddler, and the last one…the last one was born a girl.”

 

The ghoul to Jupi’s left howled in laughter and sudden realization, making the others start at the sudden noise. “Aw shit! You mean the itty bitty baby ghoulie used to be a _girl_?!” The ghoul snorted and gave Dew a scathing, calculating look, wrinkling his nose. “Ugly girl.”

 

Dew’s mouth snapped shut at the comment with an audible _clack!_ He wasn’t just afraid, he was  _terrified_ , _horrified_ , and absolutely at a loss for what to do. He felt an unfamiliar sting in the corners of his eyes and an alien sound begin in his throat, a low moan that rose steadily to a warbly pitch that he thought he had lost the ability to reach years ago. Dew clenched his jaw tight, clinging to his composure with the last bit of what passed as humanity in his inhuman mind. _What…what the hell is this…?_ He struggled to comprehend it, only aware that if he let it go, the others would see weakness. So, for his dignity, he fought this traitorous emotion with every ounce of strength he could muster.

 

A mere moment had lapsed as Dew struggled with his emotions suddenly turning on him, but that briefest sound that bubbled from his mouth, like an animal with its foot smashed in a trap, was the pebble that brought down the mountain upon his narrow shoulders.

 

“Oh my _GAWD!_ ” the sister on the farthest left of Dew squealed, her voice burrowing into his ears like an ice pick. “She’s going to _CRY!_ ” She screamed in laughter, pointing a derisive, manicured finger at him. With this pronouncement, the rest joined in, jeering and insulting the shaking ghoul like cruel children who’d stumbled upon a dog in a cage and set upon it with sticks. Dew merely straightened his posture and clenched his fists at his sides, knowing it was all he could do without provoking physical violence. Not that it could be much worse.

 

Jupi stood silent directly in front of him, not yelling or laughing at the smaller man, but instead choosing to stare directly into Dew’s dry eyes, his hands still behind his back in an unbearably cocky victory posture as he waited to see how long Dew could hold out.

 

As Jupi’s eyes met Dew’s, the feral ghoul snapped.

 

It was an actual sound in his head, like the snapping of a twig bent and under pressure. His tail twitched, which was the only sign of preparation before he pounced, his knees bending and tensing before suddenly springing forward at the gang’s leader, a terrible snarl sounding through his small body.

 

Jupi barely had time to register that the tiny ghoul before him had sprung before he crashed into him, his needle claws sinking into his cassock and slicing into the skin beneath. Jupi gave a bark-like shout and instinctively tried to pry him off, shoving his hands between them and giving a powerful push—but that only worked partly. Dew’s hands were trapped in the black fabric, and he gave a breathy yell before dragging them both to the ground in a snarling, snapping heap.

 

The other two ghouls shouted and moved forward, reaching down to pull a furious and damn-near rabid Dew off of their leader, but a sudden shout from the end of the abandoned hall made them jerk away from the entangled two.

 

“What’s going on?!?” Sister Imperator shouted, making her way towards the group in hurried, authoritative strides. Her mere presence cast the whole group into an immediate, paralyzed fear, throwing the all the ghouls, even a struggling Dew and Jupi, into stone statues of terror. The sisters, however, furrowed their brows at their imposing mother after a moment and relaxed, backing away from the scene and muttering about their ruined fun.

 

“A ghoulfight? Shoo! Away from my daughters!” She screeched, nearing the panic-stricken ghouls and aiming a kick towards the nearest one. Her boot connected with the ghoul’s leg and he yipped, breaking through his daze and scrambling away down the hall. The sudden yip brought the rest of the ghouls back to reality, and they all followed the first one in a mad attempt to escape the High Sister’s punishment. She screamed obscenities and foul promises at the retreating, cowed forms, spittle flying from her lips before turning to the two remaining sisters, who stood looking forlorn. “Did those mutts hurt you?”

 

The ghouls turned the corner and continued down one of the maze-like corridors of the castle, breathing heavily. Dew paused for the slightest fraction of a second, looking at the distracted forms of his attackers, before starting to turn away, towards the entrance of another hall to run away before they could come to their senses.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jupi hisses, grabbing him by the back of the cassock and throwing him easily to the floor. “You owe me for _this.”_ He gestured to his cut and bloodied arms, leaking droplets of blood from where Dew’s claws cut into him.

 

Dew growled weakly and thrashed, getting halfway up before a well-aimed kick to his midsection sprawled him onto his stomach, gasping. Jupi looked up at the other two members of his gang, breathing heavy. “Well?”

 

The other two hurried forward, snarling as they aimed kicks at Dew in any place they could reach: his back, his sides, his legs. Dew groaned and rolled onto his side, curling up into a tight ball to protect his stomach and face. One kick, however, manages to make it past his arms and black an eye. He whimpered and curled up tighter, his tail tucked between his legs to keep it from their hateful boots.

 

Eventually, after several minutes, the three tired and the kicks slowed, the ghouls gasping for breath and watching Jupi exhaust himself. Finally, with one last savage stomp to the water ghoul’s ribs, his oversensitive ears heard what he was looking for: the deep, quiet crack of one of his ribs breaking. Satisfied, he stood over the broken, bruised ghoul, his breath coming in short pants as he looked down. He spat on Dew with disgust, muttering “Freak…” before turning away and walking down the rest of the hall, his two lackeys following him close behind.

 

Dew remained locked in his position of pain, his eyes squeezed shut, long after he heard them leave. Seemingly hours after he’d endured their kicks, he unclenched his bleeding body, a low moan of pain escaping from his lips. Slowly sitting up, he whimpered and hissed, clutching at his side in primal agony.

 

His shoulders slumped. Where could he go?

 

He couldn’t go to the infirmary; it was filled with sisters who would only ridicule him once they found out, like the other two did. He couldn’t stay here, either; they might get a second wind and come back.

 

Sniffling, he slowly rose to his feet and shuffled forward, glancing around. He thought of the first place where he could be alone…his old room. Hunched and limping, he made his way for the crumbled prison tower that used to be his, before he’d started spending his nights in Ifrit’s room. He clung to the walls as he walked, grateful that his hair hung in front of his face and that his cassock concealed any new bruises he may have been sporting from the beating. He passed a few ghouls and sisters on the way, but nobody stopped him.

 

When he reached the isolated corner of the castle, he struggled to climb the ruined staircase that led to the room at the top of the tower. Normally, he’d scale the stairs in seconds, but now his body ached and burned from the injuries the gang had left on him. By the time he clambered to the top, his muscles were quivering with exhaustion, and he crawled across the wooden floor, dragging himself to the familiar spot where he used to sit in front of the opening in the wall. He collapsed onto his back and heaved for breath for several minutes, but he couldn’t slow his breathing no matter how many times he filled his lungs.

 

Letting his head roll weakly to the side, his eyes came to rest on the pile of old, used potion bottles that sat in a corner of the room, gathering dust and spiderwebs. Only two ghouls were supposed to know about Dew’s secret, but now Jupi and the sisters and however many other ghouls they’d told knew, and thinking about that made a tight ball of rage form up in the water ghoul’s stomach. He sat up with a furious, throat-shredding scream and tore his fascia and cassock off, cold air stinging his skin.

 

The entire Church was going to know and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He looked down at his bare chest, breathing in the misty air that blew in from the hole in the wall. Those stupid fucking lumps of fat on his chest, which denied his masculinity and mocked his efforts every time he took his shirt off. He couldn’t fucking stand them any longer.

 

With a hateful snarl, he dug his claws into the soft, fleshy tops of his breasts, taking grim pleasure in the blood bubbling up around his fingers.

 

Then, he did it again.

 

And again.  

 

And again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much less traumatic but just as emotionally scarring as the first chapter! this one was written mostly by catacomb because i like to write the sappy shit. third chapter will be much less sad i promise

Ifrit looked around the dining hall, worried. 

 

“Hey ‘Frit, you alright?” Chops asked, sitting down beside him and snagging a roast beef sandwich off of a plate. Ifrit jumped a little at his sudden appearance, but a module of relief grew and he plopped down onto the solid bench beside him.

 

“Have you seen Dew? We were supposed to meet outside of the greenhouse today, but he…he never showed. And now he’s not here. And he never misses a meal.” He rambled, glancing up from Chops’s face every few seconds to watch the door. Fewer and fewer ghouls were coming through it, already late to dinner and unlikely to get more than beefaroni and fruit. Somehow there were always extras of those at the end of the night.

 

Chops’s brow furrowed, thinking. “No, not today… Wait, yeah, he was on dusting duty in the rafters. I saw him in the hall, but I haven’t seen him, like, recently.” he mumbled, absorbed in his sandwich and taking another bulging bite. “Maybe ‘e got shtuck up there,” he said through a mouthful. 

 

Ifrit sighed, slightly annoyed. He looked at his empty plate, suddenly deciding he wasn’t hungry and standing up, huffing out an excuse to a perplexed Chops and leaving the cafeteria. Heads turned as he made his way between the long tables, a low mutter of curiosity rising in his wake. What ghoul leaves the dinner table before they absolutely have to?

 

After what felt like hours of searching, the big ghoul growled in frustration, thoroughly frustrated and dispirited. He’d looked through every damn hidey hole in this castle and still hadn’t found his boyfriend. Mumbling quietly, he tried to think of where else he could be. Library? No, he got banned from there after trying to chew the bindings off of the books. The pool? No, that place was locked up with Kreugers to keep the ghouls out. The catacombs? No, even Dew was afraid to go down there—it was almost guaranteed that you’d get lost.

 

Ifrit sighed, vexed. While it wasn’t the first time the wily ghoul had gone missing, it was the first time he’d missed a meet up. And a meal.

 

Gnawing on the claw of his thumb, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He should probably just go to his room and wait for him. Wait…his room…

 

He almost smacked himself. Idiot! Why didn’t he think to check Dew’s old room?! “Wanker…” he berated himself, abruptly turning around and starting to head towards the route that Dew had shown him weeks ago. Praying silently to whatever deity that was listening, he hoped the water ghoul was just feeling moody and wasn’t hurt. Or maybe he was just in heat and wanted a scenic place to jerk it for a few hours. 

 

Chuckling softly, he continued down the mazelike tunnels and halls, sniffing quietly. Had these corridors always smelled like…blood? Why was it getting stronger?

 

On edge, he rounded the last turn into the crumbling tower, the metallic reek filling his nostrils. It smelled fresh, and he mounted the pile of rubble that served as a staircase with increasing urgency, one thought starting to scream through his head. 

 

_ Dew’s hurt, Dew’s hurt, Dew’s hurt… _

 

Finally, Ifrit scrambled into the room, eyes darting everywhere before snapping to Dew, curled in front of the hole in the wall and dangerously close to the edge. The water ghoul didn’t turn to face him, but he didn’t need to for Ifrit to know that something was very wrong. 

 

His heart nearly stopped at the sight of his bony shoulders completely covered in bruises.

 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Dew, what happened to you?!" Ifrit gasped, closing the space between them and dropping to his knees next to the little ghoul before spinning him around to face him, his voice cracking with the startled yell that escaped his mouth. "Oh, my god, what—what are you doing?!"    
  
Dew's face was smeared with blood from where he'd apparently tried to rub at his eye, which was swollen and bruised. Blood painted his entire torso, so much of it that it took Ifrit a moment to locate the source of the bleeding: deep,  _ deep _ claw marks carved into his chest like horribly botched surgical incisions, cuts so severe that they exposed the inner tissue and fat of Dew's breasts. It looked like a fucking demon had tried to tear him apart. In the few places where the water ghoul's skin wasn't stained red, deep purple bruising and smaller cuts and abrasions were visible. Out of all of this, the most unsettling thing was that the water ghoul didn’t seem at all phased by the state he was in; he stared, one unswollen eye an icy, piercing blue that shone through the crimson swiped across his brow, and his expression was one of calm detachment, serenely quiet.

 

“Dewdrop, please, who... _ what _ did this to you?” Ifrit was afraid to even lay his hands on him. “Did someone else do it? Please, answer me!”

 

“I did not make the bruises,” Dew finally spoke, his tone flat and calm.

 

“It doesn’t matter where you got them!” there was panic in the fire ghoul’s voice. He couldn’t stand the sight of blood, it made him queasy. Normally he would turn away, but the shock of seeing Dew in such terrible shape thrust him into a frantic rush to get him to medical attention. “We need to get you to the infirmary!”

 

At that, Dew’s demeanor changed. He wriggled out of Ifrit’s reach and scooted away from him, shaking his head. His eyes narrowed at the fire ghoul, worry peeking through the deep state of shock. “I can’t,” he said. Ifrit followed him across the floor on all fours.

 

“What do you mean you can’t? You’re hurt!”

 

“No.” Dew’s back met the cold wall behind him, a hot bolt of pain surging through him at the collision of his bruised flesh with hard stone. He could try to run, but he knew if he tried to descend the tower in his current state, he might break a bone and wouldn’t get very far. Not with Ifrit on his heels. So instead he curled his knees tight against his mangled chest, wincing at a sharp pain in his midsection that the position alerted him to.

 

“You _ have _ to go,” Ifrit insisted. He wasn’t leaving this tower without Dewdrop, no fucking way. He closed in on him, trying to gather the little ghoul up in a way that would cause him the least pain. 

 

The water ghoul panicked as Ifrit stepped closer. “No,” he hissed, “No!  _ Ji _ !” He knew there was no use in trying to struggle out of Ifrit’s grip, not in his current state. As a last resort, he lashed out in desperation, swiping his claws in the fire ghoul’s direction and nearly screaming as sudden pain ripped through his whole body. His fingers connected with Ifrit’s arm, his claws tearing cleanly through the fabric of his cassock and slicing into the flesh underneath. Ifrit recoiled, but the commotion again brought on a stunning agony in Dew’s side, this time so strong that he wheezed and slumped completely to the floor, clutching the spot, falling silent save for his ragged panting. The outside winds and the two ghouls’ breathing were the only noise in the room for a long moment, a moment that stretched into forever.

 

Eventually, Ifrit broke the silence. 

 

“...Dew?”

 

When he’d slumped over onto his face, Dew’s mop of hair had fallen around his head, and now obscured his face entirely. He stayed like that while he spoke, his voice meek and muffled into the floorboards.

 

“I’m wrong,” he said.

 

The fire ghoul approached him again, this time slowly, gently, and he carefully sat Dew back up. 

 

“And I’m…” he continued as Ifrit brushed the mess of hair away from his eyes, “I’m not...I’m n…”

 

That eye-stinging, tight-jawed feeling from before was back. But this time it was worse, it  _ hurt _ , his whole body hurt, and there was still no way out of it. He tried to swallow it and fight it back, but it bubbled up inside of him and boiled over, spilling out in thick droplets that rolled in streaks through the drying blood on his cheeks.  

 

Ifrit had never seen Dew so emotional before, but judging by the way he tried to swipe the tears out of his eyes, looking at the moisture on his hands like it was alien to him, the little ghoul might never have  _ been _ so emotional in his life. It was like this was the first time he’d ever cried, and maybe it actually was. 

 

Dew’s shoulders shook and every sob made it harder to breathe. The overflow of emotion made him realize just how much pain he was in and how much blood he’d lost. He felt dizzy and his head throbbed, and when Ifrit pulled him into his lap he let him, his limbs feeling too heavy to do much other than wrap around the larger ghoul—he was so used to taking that position with Ifrit that he instinctively craved the closeness, pain or no pain. He pressed himself into Ifrit’s chest, in so much all-over agony at that point that he hardly noticed the sting of the fire ghoul’s grucifix against his open wounds. 

 

“Please tell me what happened, love,” Ifrit spoke softly into his ear. Dew rested his head on the larger ghoul’s shoulder, tears landing and soaking into the back of his cassock.

 

“Other ghouls hit me,” the water ghoul croaked. “And kicked.”

 

“Who?”

 

“I do not know their names.”

 

“Why did they beat you up?”

 

“I attacked them first.”

 

“Why did  _ you _ attack them?”

 

Dew paused. He sniffled loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

 

“They knew that I’m not...that I’m a girl.”

 

Ifrit’s heart plummeted at the realization. The gashes on Dew’s chest...he  _ did  _ do that to himself. He detached the other ghoul from his shoulder to steady him in front of him, looking him solemnly in the eyes. He was at a complete loss for words. What could he possibly say to make this better?

 

“Dew, is that why you...listen, you can’t just—”

 

“I can’t!” Dew cut him off, voice trembling. “I know I can’t! And it’s…I...ugh!” He growled in frustration, staring at the blood on his claws and looking down at his mutilated chest. He didn’t know the English word for what he was feeling, but he didn’t know the Gholish word, either. There wasn’t one that could have described what he felt. “Wrong” wasn’t strong enough. He felt...disgusting, ugly, like he didn’t belong in his own skin. He wanted to tear his way out of himself, like his skin was a net tangled around him. It had always been like that, hating his own shape, feeling like it belonged to someone else. The potions that the small earth ghoul provided him with helped. They deepened his voice and let him grow facial hair and made it hurt less to be in his body, but what Jupi and the others said made it clear to Dew that it was pointless. It was just alchemy, and without the potions he’d go back to being smooth and soft. It would never be  _ real _ . And every ghoul knew, even Ifrit. 

 

Dew's emotions boiled over inside of him again, but he was too tired to fight it anymore. He hid his face underneath a hand and let his shoulders slump as he trembled, his face contorting and baring his fangs.

 

Ifrit breathed, watching uselessly as Dew broke down. It killed him to see the water ghoul like this. He still didn't know what to say, but he had to say  _ something _ . 

 

"Hey," he whispered. Dew lowered his hand to peek through his fingers. "You're not 'a girl'. You're Dewdrop." Ifrit pulled the other ghoul's arm away from his face and softly brought their foreheads together. "And you look like a man to me. A bloody handsome one, too."

 

"Do not lie, _ sintos _ ."

 

"I'm not lying. Listen to me, Dew." Ifrit dug his fingers into the other ghoul's knotted, blood-matted hair, scratching his scalp the way he knew would soothe him. "I love you. As my boyfriend. I wouldn't call you that if you weren't a man to me." 

 

The water ghoul's sobs had stopped, but now Ifrit felt his own throat tighten. "You could’ve killed yourself, Dew. I'm so sorry this happened, and I'm sorry I wasn't there, and I just...I love you so much and if anything happened to you I don't know what I'd do—"

 

" _ Fyk thar hömni _ ," Dew interrupted him. 

 

"It's gay because we're both blokes, yeah?"

 

Dew couldn't help cracking a smile at that, not with the goofy way Ifrit grinned at him when he said it. He laughed weakly and the fire ghoul kissed him, in spite of the phlegm in his throat and the snot running down his face. Ifrit pulled him into an embrace, harshly reminding Dew of the pain he was in. When he groaned, the larger ghoul quickly let go of him. He clutched his hand to his side and winced. 

 

"I think you have a broken rib," Ifrit said. Dew allowed himself to be gathered up as the fire ghoul stood.

 

"Sorry," Dew strained to speak, gesturing to the nasty slices he'd left on Ifrit's arm. 

 

"Don't worry about it," the fire ghoul laughed. "I'll cut the sleeves off this cassock." 

 

Maneuvering down out of the tower with Dew in his arms was difficult, but he managed. The water ghoul didn't weigh much, and clung to him as well as he could with his overtired muscles. The two went the rest of the way in silence, Ifrit holding Dew close to hide his face from the nosey ghouls and sisters that stared as they walked the castle halls. 

 

Losing so much blood and being carried shirtless through the drafty castle left Dew shivering. Ifrit concentrated on his elemental abilities, stoking heat in his chest to help him stay warm. He didn't use his fire enough to be used to how it made smoke seep out of his mouth and nose, so he coughed, getting a groggy chuckle from the water ghoul. 

 

Ifrit glanced down, somewhat relieved that Dew had enough energy in him to laugh, and he smiled back encouragingly before hugging him closer to his chest as he navigated towards the infirmary. The water ghoul’s eyelids felt heavy. He let them close, exhausted and badly wanting to sleep, but Ifrit gave him a gentle shake to wake him back up.

 

“Please don’t pass out on me,” he joked, “You know I’ll panic.”

 

Jupi looked up at the sound of hurried, heavy footsteps echoing down the halls, and he turned toward his other two followers, shrugging and sitting up. His elongated ears twitched and he recognised the candencense and weight of the footsteps. Ifrit, the freak’s guard dog and boyfriend.

 

He lifted his teeth in a silent snarl, dully leaning against the cold gray walls of the corridor. This wouldn’t be fun—he and his gang knew better than to mess with the firey, musclebound ghoul, freak or no freak. Still, three on one was only good odds if you were one of the three…

 

As Jupi was calculating, the fire ghoul appeared at the end of the hall and put an abrupt stop to his thinking. He was carrying the freak in his arms…and, dear lucifer, why was he  _ dripping  _ in blood _?  _

 

“We didn’t do that.” he muttered to himself, transfixed on the scrawny, battered creature in his arms as they neared, and then passed the three confused and apprehensive figures, still half hidden in shadow. Jupi stepped out from the darkness, sniffing tentatively. Lucifer, that was a lot of blood, what did Dew do to himse—

 

A sudden burning pain bloomed on the side of his leg, and he looked down to see the end of his fascia engulfed in flames. He yelped and shrieked, barely registering similar cries from his gang as he struggled to throw his cassock off before the flames consumed him completely. Gasping, he managed to tear it off and throw it to the ground, watching it smoulder on the stone floor. Jupi stared at the flickering pile of charred cloth, then back up at Ifrit’s back. 

 

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even seem to have noticed the scene behind him.

 

Jupi considered going after him, and actually took a few steps forward, before seeing the dime-sized drops of blood that Ifrit had left in his wake carrying the freak. Vexed, he bit his lip, then shook his head slightly. Not today.

 

The group watched in uncomfortable silence as the two rounded a corner and disappeared down the hall that led to the infirmary. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYYY THE LAST CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE  
> this one is just gratuitous fluffy smut making up for all the angst in the previous chapters lmao enjoy thank you for reading

Ifrit poked his head into the entrance of the communal baths, long curls swishing against his temples as he looked up and down, left to right, making sure that the area was devoid of life. “All clear!” he called back, walking forward and holding the door open for Dewdrop with one hand, the other wrapped firmly around his shower basket. He really didn’t expect anyone, honestly, given it was nearing two in the morning. But he had to be _sure_ they were alone.

Dew entered in mincing steps, sniffing suspiciously at the air and wrinkling his nose. “Why we are doing this?” he asked in broken English, looking back and watching his boyfriend letting the door swing shut and placing a small cinderblock in front of it to give them the illusion of privacy.

“It’s almost been three weeks since your, erm, _accident,_ love. You need a bath,” the fire ghoul explained patiently, walking towards the farthest tub that was cast in shadow from a broken overhead light. Dew sighed and followed him, noting the thin, bright pink sandals that slapped quietly against the tile floor as he walked.

Dew continued to stare at his curious footwear, tilting his head inquisitively, eventually pointing to them as Ifrit stopped and put down his basket, full of shampoo, conditioners, designer hair oils, and a loofa. “What is those?” he asked, his eyes flicking up to the fire ghoul’s defined arms and toned stomach as he started to strip from his clothing.

“These? These are shower shoes, mate. Keeps me from getting, ah, athlete's foot. And other things.” He huffed softly in amusement, seeing Dew’s brow furrow even deeper in confusion. “You know…um, flippy floppies.” For emphasis, he took off a flip flop and waved it in front of him, snorting as the water ghoul took a playful swipe at his hand.

“Flippy floppies,” Dew repeated, smiling toothily and nabbing the footwear from him.

Ifrit chuckled, watching him explore the cheap foam sandal, taking off the other one and setting it aside before taking off his last few items of clothing. The motion of him removing his loose boxers, exposing himself as completely naked, caught the smaller ghoul’s attention and he stared, transfixed by the musclebound male before him. Dew’s head tilted again as the fire ghoul straightened up, gently taking the shoe from him and starting to tug off the water ghoul’s shirt, an oversized and hole-filled Judas Priest tee that Ifrit had owned for at least ten years.

Dew gave a small whine of confusion and confliction, watching the bigger ghoul slide it up and off of him with mixed emotions. His skin was still dotted with bruises, but most of them had faded—the only place still dark was the section where his rib had been broken. Ifrit glanced around the room, checking again that they were alone before covering the pink, tender scars on the tops of Dew’s breasts with his hands and leaning down to kiss them softly. “Do they still hurt?” he asked, looking up with wide eyes to meet Dew’s own starstruck expression.

“Mn...a little. But better now.” His tail twitched as Ifrit pecked another kiss on the pink marks before reaching his hands down and starting to shimmy his sweats off, doing his damndest to keep the wily little man from shying away from his bath. Fortunately, the feral ghoul seemed far more inclined to study the solid muscles of Ifrit’s upper back and shoulders than to run away, sliding his bony fingers over his warm skin and making both ghouls repress a shiver. The two had barely seen each other since the incident a few weeks ago; even with the aid of healing magic and potions Dewdrop had been in such bad shape that his recovery had left him first bedridden in the castle infirmary, then limited to not being able to do much physical activity. Ifrit had taken on the water ghoul’s duties on top of his own, and so had been so busy that he was only able to see him for a short while every day, when the infirmary sisters would allow it. This was the first chance they’d gotten to be alone together in too long, and it showed in the way they took their time to savor the sight and feeling of each other’s bare skin.

However, Dew _smelled_ like someone who hadn’t been out of an infirmary bed in three weeks. That sorely needed to be taken care of.

“In you go!” Ifrit said, nudging him towards the bath. Dew grumbled, digging his toe-claws into the tile floor. “Go on, then,” Ifrit urged him again. Wasn’t he supposed to be a _water_ ghoul?

“I hate baths.” Dew puffed, crossing his arms and coiling his tail securely around himself.

This little ghoul could be maddeningly stubborn, but Ifrit knew how to get him into the tub. “Would it help if I got in first?” he cooed, stroking the other ghoul’s arm as he climbed in. He turned the faucet handle and sat on the ledge around the bath while the water rose and steamed up around him, closing his eyes and stretching contentedly. Making a deliberate show of it, he sunk down to the floor of the tub and sat in the rising water before he scooped up some of the steaming liquid into his hands and spread it over himself, letting it roll and drip down the round shape of his pectorals. "S'nice," he said, batting his eyelashes. Dew was already clambering into the tub, pupils dilated and fixated on the fire ghoul’s gleaming chest.

“There you go, mate!” Ifrit chuckled, patting the area next to him for Dew in the water and watching the smaller ghoul scoot over to him and smoosh himself against his side. They both sighed in contentment at the feel of each other's closeness, Dew burying his head into his shoulder and Ifrit kissing his forehead in response, closing his eyes and holding him tight. They remained locked together for a time, letting the hot water rise around them. As it reached their shoulders, Ifrit detached himself from Dew’s arms with a soft, regretful sigh and reached over to turn off the faucet.

Dew sat up and blinked, suppressing a yawn before his interest was piqued by the sight of Ifrit's dripping, glorious ass lifting out of the water, barely a foot from his face, tail slightly raised and swishing left and right. He gulped dryly and reached up, his thin hands surprisingly steady as he cupped, then gripped and kneaded the solid muscle in front of him with obvious relish…and more than a touch of deviousness.

Ifrit tensed when Dew’s cold hands made contact with his skin, then relaxed and murmured as he started to massage him. Finishing flicking off the water, he braced himself against the ledge of the tub on his arms and bit his lower lip, enjoying the attention his ass was receiving and mumbling softly, lifting his tail fully to give his palms and fingers better access to his backside.

Dew gave a small, fang-baring smile as the fire ghoul presented himself, and ran his fingers over the wet skin with glee, enjoying the responding groan and lightly smacking Ifrit’s butt. “Good?” he asked, but he already knew the answer to that, given the way Ifrit’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Mn, yeah...” Ifrit purred, arching his back. He hadn’t been touched in weeks, and Dew’s caresses and rubs felt fantastic on his sore muscles. He almost got carried away in the delicious feeling of getting rubbed down, nearly forgetting that he had a job to do before coming back to his senses as he opened his eyes and spotted the basket he’d brought in with him. “Come on, love...” he grunted, moving forward and grabbing his shower basket. Dew grumbled again as the other ghoul moved out of his reach, perking back up when he turned around to face him. He squinted inquisitively at the items in his hand.

“Wossat?” He asked, in a startlingly accurate imitation of Chops.

Ifrit chuckled, setting his supplies on the ledge and grabbing the big bottle of specialty shampoo. “Soap, shampoo, conditioner...good stuff for your hair.”

“My hair?” Dew asked, touching a stringy strand that was plastered to his face. Ifrit nodded, sitting back down and nudging the gangly ghoul into his lap.

“Yeah, stuff to make it shiny and healthy. Pretty.” he explained, putting a hand on his waist and guiding him closer.

Dew chirruped happily and settled on top of him, his tail curling around his leg and squeezing. “Pretty.” he parroted back, tucking his hands between his legs neatly and getting comfortable.

Ladling a thick dollop of shampoo into his palm, Ifrit wrapped his legs around Dew’s gaunt waist and pulled him in—just in case he tried to wriggle away from his shampooing—before pressing the soap onto the crown of his head and starting to work it into a foam.

The water ghoul shuddered at the initial feel of the cold goop covering the top of his scalp, but he soon closed his eyes in warm pleasure as Ifrit massaged and scratched his head, running his fingers through the ratty mop of hair.

“Tilt your head back, love,” he commanded softly, untangling the strands that clung to his horns and pulling them into a single bunch. Dew murmured and complied, his thin hands rising to spread the warm water over himself and sinking back down his body before reaching his groin almost unconsciously. He hesitated, thinking, then huffed and pushed a finger against his clit, his face twitching at the sensation as he started to rub in slow, concentric circles. _Fan,_ it had been a while since he was able to do this.

Ifrit noticed Dew’s sudden silence, and he frowned slightly, a free, soapy hand reaching down to rub his neck. “You okay?” he asked, slowly stroking through Dew’s lathered hair.

“Yeah…okay.” the water ghoul muttered, his eyes closed while he worked himself with one hand, the other reaching up to grab Ifrit’s fingers on his neck and pull it to his pussy.

Ifrit’s breath hitched as their hands dipped beneath the water, then directly to Dew’s crotch. He blinked, cheeks flushing as Dew pressed his calloused fingers against himself. “Love...erm, I'd l-love to take care of you, b-but I need both hands to...finish. Your hair.” he stammered, the ball of his palm brushing over Dew’s clit and sending a shudder through the smaller ghoul.

“No. Now,” Dew protested, rocking his hips forward against his fingers and hissing at the feel of thick fingers pressing against his skin. He’d waited more than long enough, he felt, and it was time to do something about the frustration that had been building inside his gut for _weeks_.

Ifrit bit down on his tongue, fighting the urge to oblige him before pulling his hand away, much to Dew’s disappointment. “Let, uh, let me do this first,” he sighed, his fingers regretfully tangling back into the sudsy mane of the water ghoul’s hair. “Then I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Dew grumbled bitterly once again, pressing his back against the fire ghoul and starting to stroke himself as Ifrit finished scrubbing, lathering, and finally rinsing his head, blood rushing to his face and to his cock at every twitch, jerk, and moan Dew made while he jerked himself off. That little man was _unfairly_ good at turning him on.

The bigger ghoul was nearly panting by the time he finished rinsing out the last of the foam in his hair, his dick pressing uncomfortably hard against Dewdrop’s writhing tail. Ifrit weighed the pros and cons of making him wait until the end of his grooming to get his…reward, as it were, versus bending him over the tub’s ledge and fucking his brains out as he so desperately wanted to do. The fire ghoul huffed a small puff of smoke, torn between the two options.

Impatiently, Dew grinded his ass against his cock, cutting Ifrit’s confliction short and coaxing a small moan from him. “ _Zel to malt hew per as end icek eg elredan?_ ” the water ghoul snarled, switching over to Gholish in lust-ridden frustration. He started to rock back and forth in slow, jerky movements, arching his back and doing his best to be persuasive. “Please.” he added, looking over his shoulder and catching Ifrit’s starry-eyed stare, biting his lower lip as his fingers rubbed and teased his own entrance.

Fucking hell. How was Ifrit supposed to say no to _that?_

Mumbling out some sort of response, he wrapped his arms around Dew’s narrow chest and lifted him up, the tiny ghoul trilling curiously as he was set down on the ledge of the tub. “ _Hej,_ what are you doin—” Dew’s inquiry was cut off with a yelp of surprise and pleasure when Ifrit spread his legs open with strong hands and buried his face between them, pressing his eager tongue between the folds of his pussy and lapping hungrily.

Dew sat bolt upright and whimpered, grabbing Ifrit’s spiraled horns and pulling him closer. “O-oh, _fan, fyk’th_ ...ah!” he gasped at the forked tongue pushing inside of him in a single thrust, the fire ghoul apparently wasting no time at getting him to orgasm. Dew moaned and grinded his hips forward, barely keeping back a louder sound of bliss as Ifrit’s thumb moved down to his clit and began to flick it rapidly in time with curls of his tongue. _Zytan_ , Ifrit had never done _that_ before. It was like he’d been studying since the last time they fucked.

Regardless, Dew’s teeth clamped down on his own lip to fight the chorus of pleasure brewing in his throat, lest they get caught by a curious passerby in the hall. Not that this would have been the first, or second, or fiftieth time that a couple of horny ghouls had gotten caught screwing in the baths, but it was always better to avoid whatever promised punishment that Imperator gave to the unfortunate lovers.

Ifrit pressed his face hard into the water ghoul’s groin, burying almost the entirety of his tongue into Dew’s hole, taking shallow breaths from his nose and intoxicating himself on the scrawny ghoul’s rich pheromones before he lightly dragged his fangs over the sensitive folds of his labia, earning him a hiss from above and a twitch forward from his hips. _Cute,_ he thought, before closing his eyes and wiggling his face side to side, his nose taking his thumb’s place to rub against Dew’s clit. Little throaty squeaks and growls escaped Dew’s mouth, his grinding evolving into full-on humping and riding his boyfriend’s face. Soon, Ifrit could barely get a breath in between his ruts, and he tried to pull back a little to catch a break.

“L-love, I need to—”

He was interrupted abruptly by Dew growling and shoving him back down, the grip on his horns tightening to keep him from escaping.  

“No. _Bli dön, eg’th gyn fynje._ ”

Ifrit looked up and gulped dryly, a species of worry flitting across his face. Dewdrop grinned impishly down at him, like he knew that the larger ghoul beneath him would obey and stay there. Ifrit nodded silently, and then he was once again nose-deep into his partner and running out of breath. His brow furrowed and he moved his fingers to Dew’s entrance, quickly pressing his knuckles to his wetness and gasping out the concealment spell to shorten his claws. As soon as they took on the short, blunt shape of human fingernails, he slipped his middle and ring finger into the water ghoul’s dripping cunt and curled them up, earning a sudden squeak from above and a hard tug on his horns. A coy smile spread across his occupied lips in spite of his oxygen deprivation, and he attached his mouth to Dew’s swollen clit and delivered a quick series of punishing licks to the over-sensitive bud of flesh, feeling the thighs around his head shudder in response. Working in rhythm and knowing Dew was close, he pounded his fingers into him, suckling and dragging his tongue over his clit when he could.

A string of incomprehensible curses and groans fell from Dew’s lips as Ifrit changed his tactics, his icy eyes rolling back at the relentless fingerfucking he was being subjected to. _“Fan, oh, fan, sintos, eg’th gaind—to’th görens eg akvat!”_ he whined shrilly, one clawed hand moving to the back of the fire ghoul’s head and burying itself in the tangle of black curls. “Fuck!” he cried out in English, his hips bucking frantically as orgasm washed over him. He moaned loudly, forgetting the echos of the bathroom and riding out the warm waves of pleasure before slowly sinking back down to afterglow.

Barely enough time passed for either ghoul to catch their breath before Ifrit moved to stand, rushing to kiss him. Dewdrop met him halfway, latching onto him and sending them toppling back down into the water together. They landed with enough force to send splashes over the edge of the tub. Dew bore down on him, curling over him to kiss and nip and touch the fire ghoul wherever he could reach, and Ifrit followed suit, sliding his palms down either side of the water ghoul’s narrow ribcage. A sudden, pained hiss brought them screeching to a halt—in his excitement, Ifrit must’ve squeezed Dew’s still-healing ribs a little too hard.

“Sorry,” he said timidly.

It was clear that Dew’s body was still in pain, with the way his brows knit together and the shallow breaths he took, and Ifrit worried if they should stop. But Dew smiled, reassuring him.

“Is alright,” he said. He paused to steady his breath while Ifrit’s hands hovered awkwardly over him, as if touching him would re-break his bones.

“You can still fuck me,” he added after a long moment.

Ifrit couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just barely out of the infirmary, and the water ghoul was chomping at the bit to get some dick.

“Lean over the edge, there,” the fire ghoul directed, gingerly guiding him into position. "We'll take it slow."

Begrudgingly, Dewdrop obeyed, letting himself be bent over the ledge of the tub where he'd just sat. Wiggling and lashing his tail in the air, he reached back to spread himself, impatiently shoving two thin fingers into his hole and biting his lip. "Don't want it slow," he whined, "Want you hard."

"I _am_ hard," Ifrit joked. Positioning himself flush against Dew's back, he planted kisses along the smaller ghoul's neck as he sank deep into him, drawing a long and contented sigh from him. However slowly they went, having his boyfriend inside of him for the first time in ages was enough to make his toes curl, and for Ifrit it was the same; as much as he felt a primal urge to sink his teeth into Dewdrop’s skin and fuck him until his legs shook, like this he could savor every second of it, rolling and grinding his hips in a steady rhythm and coiling his tail around his leg to squeeze his own thigh like Dew squeezed hot and tight and perfectly around his cock.

“Ifrit,” the water ghoul suddenly piped up, snapping him out of his blissful trance.

“Hm?” the fire ghoul hummed against the nape of his neck.

"When I was in the infirmary," he said, rocking his hips against Ifrit, "Did you..." He trailed off, searching for the English words he needed. "Did you go fuck yourself?"

Ifrit snort-laughed, so taken off guard that he stopped dead. "Did I what?!"

"That is not the word." Dew said, matter-of-factly. His brows furrowed, frustrated at the English language and the sudden lack of dick moving inside him. "There is a word in _Goltelt_ for it," he continued, "When you do sex to yourself." He mimed a jerking-off motion in the air with one hand. "With your hands. _Sloagöv_."

“O-oh,” Ifrit giggled, trying not to make the water ghoul feel self-conscious about his English skills, “Normally you’d say, um...masturbate? Wanking?”

“Wanking,” Dew repeated.

“ _Sloagöv_ ,” Ifrit repeated, botching the pronunciation, although Dew didn’t bother to correct him. His laughter fizzled out, and Dewdrop stayed quiet, blinking at him from over his shoulder—he obviously expected an answer. "I did, though," the fire ghoul sheepishly admitted. Dew grinned. "But it wasn't as much fun without you." His hips resumed their movement, fingers digging into the bony points of Dew's pelvis to pull him closer in time with his thrusting, and both ghouls swore under their breath in their native tongues.

Dew's fingers once again found their way to his clit, jerking himself off. He'd always wondered what that was like for his boyfriend. It would be a lie to say he wasn't envious.

"You're so, just..." Ifrit gasped, faltering in his steady rhythm, trying vehemently to keep his cool, even when heat burned in his chest and smoke billowed up from his nostrils. "So...bloody handsome."

Scoffing, Dew leaned back into him. His tail slithered between their bodies to join Ifrit's in coiling around the larger ghoul's thigh, its sharp barbs leaving dimples in skin. " _Hömni_ ," he purred. The sound gave way to a low, throaty moan when Ifrit’s hand snaked its way down Dew’s belly, between his legs, to brush the smaller ghoul’s fingers away and pick up where he’d left off.

Dew couldn’t stand it anymore—he was teetering on the edge of cumming again, but he wasn’t going to get there unless his boyfriend fucked him like he meant it. His fingers and dick were working much too slow for his liking.

“ _Sintos_ ,” he said, “ _Icek eg_.”

“I am—” Ifrit started, but Dewdrop cut him off.

“Harder.”

The fire ghoul obeyed, though it was obvious he still held back. But it was enough. Wrapping his other arm around the smaller ghoul’s chest, Ifrit held him close and pounded into him, rubbing fast circles over his clit until Dew’s body shuddered. Before he could cry out—the two of them had made enough noise to wake the entire castle by now—Ifrit closed his palm over Dew’s mouth, to muffle his keening, but instead the water ghoul sucked his fingers in, humming and swirling his forked tongue around them.

That was the last straw for Ifrit. With a guttural growl he came hard and fast inside the smaller ghoul, the tight heat around his fingers and cock and the needlepoint pricks of pain where Dew’s tail constricted like a snake around his thigh, its quills and jagged spade threatening to pierce him, were altogether too much for him to contain himself any more.

Both ghouls rocked together for several long seconds, quietly and contentedly coming down from orgasm. They separated with a kiss or two or three and sank back down into the water together, which by then had long since gone cold, but Ifrit’s fiery nature had worked them both into such a sweat that it was welcome.

After quickly re-washing themselves, they stepped out of the tub. While Dew struggled to towel his hair dry around his horns, Ifrit stared at the yellowing bruises still spread like fading patchwork across his back. Soon the scars on his chest would be the only evidence of what had happened to him.

" _Eg ásk to_ ," Dew said when he unsnagged the towel from his one unbroken horn. His hair was a poofed-up mess and a goofy, toothy smile made his mustache curve upwards.

"Love you too, mate," Ifrit smiled back.


End file.
